Into the Deep
by Baeowulf
Summary: When Salya, a young, incompetent Lizardfolk mage is sentenced to pass through the terrible dungeon of Grimrock, she didn't think that her life could get any worse. However, there is more hidden beneath the mountain than she could have ever imagined... T for violence/romance, may spike to M. WARNING: very dark


Hello again!

If any of my past readers are looking at this, you might find yourselves questioning the name of the game that inspired this story. "The Legend of Grimrock" is a very new game by indie developers Almost Human, and is a modern take on classic dungeon-crawling games. I find this game as a wonderful opportunity for a story, as the story in the game is very basic; you are left to determine the backgrounds of your characters, who they are, and how they react to different things in the dungeon, while still being tied together by an overarching mystery. In case you are wondering, it's an excellent game, and is available on steam for 15 bucks, so a good buy.

In any case, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it, and we will see where it goes from here!

And now, on to our feature presentation...

* * *

Salya felt the guards lift her roughly to her feet, yanking on her arms so that the wooden cuff that bound her forearms behind her back dug into her scaled skin. She tried to utter protest, but the sandy cloth gag pulled uncomfortably tight between her jaws sapped the sound, letting only a hoarse groan escape.

"Alright, lizard, let's go," she heard one of the men say, pushing on her back to get her moving. Salya stumbled blindly forward, the scratchy blindfold over her eyes blocking her vision and the chains around her ankles hobbling her steps. As she moved, she felt a rough hand running up her tail, giving it a squeeze at the base before sliding up her side and cupping her breast. The lizardfolk prisoner froze, the guard's tight grip on her arm preventing her futile attempts to distance herself from him.

"Hey Kev," the man said, apparently to the other guard, "what say we 'ave a little fun with this one? I mean, it's not like she's going to be comin' back from 'ere, and it'd be a shame to waste somethin' so pretty…" Salya felt the hot breath of the guard against her neck. Suddenly, she was shoved roughly towards the guard, and she felt his grip on her loosen as he stumbled backward, his steel boots noisy on the wooden floorboards.

"Knock it off, Samuel," a second human voice grunted, annoyed. "By the gods, can't you even try to act like you aren't some hired thug for one mission?" Salya grunted, the cloth ball shoved halfway down her throat making it hard to speak. A brusque shove from the guard named Kev put her on her feet again, and the other, whom she now knew to be named Samuel, harshly seized her arm again, squeezing tightly enough to solicit a gurgle of pain from the lizardfolk prisoner. As Salya shakily moved forward, she felt the floor beneath her scaly feet change from warm wood to cold, icy stone. A choked cry issued from Salya's mouth as the sudden wave of icy air enveloped her body, the surprise causing her to slip on the ice. The guards caught her, and as they dragged her to her feet, she heard the sounds of three other prisoners getting up behind her: one pair of boots, a scratching sound like claws against bone, and the heavy clopping of hooves accompanied by snorts of air.

The prod of a spear put Salya into motion. For what seemed like hours she marched up a steep slope on a winding path she could not see, the sharp, icy rocks cutting into her feet. By the time the silent march ended, the temperature had noticeably dropped, making the lizardfolk prisoner shiver intensely in the cold, her threadbare robe doing little to protect her from the elements. Suddenly, the pressure from the half frozen cloth gag was pulled away from her cheeks, and she felt rough fingers reach into her mouth and remove pull the tangle of rags from her throat. Before she could say anything, a second pair of hands pulled a leather strap taught in her mouth, the band cutting into her cheeks and effectively preventing any attempts at speech. A voice she recognized as Kev whispered in her ear.

"I will lift your blindfold now, but if you try anything like you did with the Count, I will not hesitate to kill you." Salya hesitated, and then nodded; after all, vision was far better than blindness. She felt the scratchy band shifting around her face, and then a sudden release of pressure over her eyes. Slowly, Salya opened her eyes, and what she saw nearly stopped her heart.

She was standing atop a huge mountain; steep cliff faces dropped off on all sides, and the base of the stone spire was blocked from her vision by a coat of clouds. The stones were mostly invisible at this altitude, hidden from view by thick layers of ice and snow. Three other prisoners were with her, each with their own pair of guards save the Minotaur, who had six jailers assigned to him so as to contain his behemoth strength, and a priest. The four prisoners stood at the smooth, circular rim of a gaping black chasm, and this single feature was what terrified Salya:

This was Grimrock.

Salya gnashed her teeth in fear, struggling against the guard's grip and grunting past the gag. "Restrain her!" shouted the priest, and Salya froze as she felt the sharp blade of a dagger against her back.

"One more move, scalie," she heard Samuel's voice in her ear, "and I'll see just 'ow pretty your skin looks dripping with blood!" Salya's eyes darted back and forth, arching her back slightly to get away from the blade. She glanced around at the other prisoners, desperately looking for possible escape routes, but one of them caught her eye: a young human male, likely in his mid-twenties, shook his head almost imperceptibly. His signal was enough to stop her, and she submitted to the grip of the guards, slumping against them in hopelessness.

"Thank you, Samuel," said the priest curtly, nodding as he removed a scroll from his robes. The priest straightened his back, assuming a regal position as he unfurled the scroll before him and began to read from it. "Criminals and Traitors:" he said, his voice echoing off the rocky cliffs, "each of you has committed heinous crimes against the country, her people, and her king! Jolus Spinecrusher, your name is known as that of a feared raider and responsible for countless murders, rapes, and the killing of members of the King's own personal guard!" The Minotaur grinned, rattling his shackles slightly and making the soldiers restraining him steady their stances, backing off slightly from the potentially deadly length of chain binding the massive Minotaur's wrists. "Sol'sesh'yet Spiritwalker, Assassin of the Seven Blades! Not two months ago, you were apprehended after successfully taking the lives of the Duke of Hagarstead, his wife, and those of over half of his men! Upon your arrest, orders were discovered on your person for an attempt on the life of the Crown Prince!" An slim Insectoid man nodded, his tattered black cowl hiding most of his face, and moved his intricate fingers in recitation of some secret signal known only to the notorious Seven Blades, the same group that had murdered Emperor Reven Kingslayer 3 centuries ago. "Nereven Silvertongue! You are charged with the rape of the Count Amasso's daughter, as well as grand theft and larceny, evasion of the law, and the murder of 3 imperial guardsmen!" The human seemed surprised, but it didn't show; Salya only detected the faint hint that flashed over the man's features because she was already watching him. "And finally," said the priest, "Salya Brightscale, Mage and responsible for the terrible murders of Lords Silverhall, Battlewrought, and Count Amasso!" Salya's eyes widened; these were the crimes she was accused of? She panicked, thrashing about fierce enough to catch even Samuel off guard. One of the pair of thugs locked an arm around her neck, while Samuel pressed the edge of the knife hard against her back, forcing her forward. The guard's arm crushed her windpipe, choking her until her thrashing stopped and she calmed down, slumping forward, tears of defeat streaming down her face. The priest scowled at her in contempt, and continued his speech. "All of you have committed crimes worthy of a terrible death in the public square, but rejoice, for the King, our lord and master, has deemed fit to grant you pardon from your crimes!"

_No, no, this can't be happening,_ Salya thought, panic welling up in her breast once again.

"As of now, all of you are free, absolved of any and all crimes! All that you must do is survive the trials of this ancient mountain!" The priest gestured towards the pit, sweeping his arm in a long, slow arc. "Within the timeless dungeons of Grimrock, your strength, mind, and virtue will be tested by the many challenges and riddles that lie ahead; if you can emerge alive, your crimes are forgiven and forgotten!" The priest gripped both ends of the scroll, and briskly rolled it up, methodically tucking it back into his robes. "On behalf of the crown, I bid you farewell, and good luck!" The priest paused, and turned away, walking back to the airship. As he left, Salya heard him say one final sentence: "Throw them in."

The young lizard folk woman screamed as she felt herself being pushed closer and closer towards the pit, struggling fiercely as she was carried mercilessly forward by the two burly men who gripped her arms. All she could think of was that she was going to die, that this was the end of her life, that there would be no tomorrow. She felt a chain being fastened about her ankle, and a sharp tug as it was attached to the other prisoners, and the wooden cuff binding her arms replaced by a leather strap similar to the one that served as a makeshift gag. Finally, she had been forced to the edge of the chasm, the only thing holding her up the leather straps around her arms and in her mouth being held by the guards. Suddenly, she felt the pressure from the straps release, and for a brief moment, she was suspended in mid-air, her heart stopped, the world frozen.

And then she fell.

* * *

The winds of time blow on, shifting the sands of reality into ever changing patterns.

- Baeowulf


End file.
